Page 53 of It’s Only Love
Mike - Epilogue
One year later
“I never really got around to thanking you, and I should’ve done it sooner.
” I stare out at our vast backyard, where Willow is barking at a squirrel playing hide-and-seek in a maple tree.
It’s small and gray with a bushy tail, and Dennis would definitely know which kind. To me, it’s just a cute squirrel.
“For what?” Aaron says, turning his beer in his hands. We just finished eating a barbecue dinner after Major Moving Day, as Dennis called it. Both of our families helped, and we managed to move everything into our new house in just one day.
“For going to see that asshole professor.” A dull ache moves through my chest, and I instinctively rub at it.
The thought of what that guy did to Dennis still makes me livid.
For a pretty laid-back guy, I sure have strong emotions when it comes to my man.
I inhale deeply, then turn to face Aaron.
“Dennis was so set on just letting it rest, and I didn’t want to go behind his back and stir shit up, you know.
It would’ve felt like a breach of trust if I’d gone ahead with it without his acceptance. ”
Aaron looks at me, bumping his shoulder against mine. “I get that. I think you made the right decision.”
I focus on Willow, who’s now camping out under the maple tree, probably pretending to have given up. Right, girl, keep on dreaming.
Aaron follows my gaze and laughs. “Not the sharpest tool in the shed, my man? But I gotta admit she’s damn cute.”
We sit in silence for a bit, but I can tell from the tension pouring off Aaron’s body that he’s not done speaking.
Eventually, he says, “I’m his older brother.
No way in hell was I going to just let that incident with his professor go.
I know he was mad at me at first, but I think he understands why I had to do it.
” He hesitates, what looks like regret flashing across his face.
“I know I wasn’t always the best big brother growing up, but I do love Den, and I couldn’t just act as if nothing had happened.
Besides, I needed to make sure that idiot wasn’t going around doing the same shit to anyone else. ”
“Yeah, I get that,” I say, taking a sip from my beer. “In any case, I’m grateful you did. I know Dennis is, too, deep down.” I hold out my bottle and clink it against Aaron’s. “And as far as big brothers go, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”
“Cheers, man. At the end of the day, I just want him to be happy, you know.” He smiles, brushing a hand through his hair, the same color as Dennis’. “And you do that, Mike. You make him very happy.”
“He makes me really happy, too,” I rasp, then quickly cough to disguise my building emotions.
“Of course, I’d find you two out here, drinking beer, while the rest of us were slaving over the dishes,” Amanda groans, entering the back deck. When she reaches us, she knocks her knee teasingly against Aaron’s side. “Handsome, you promised me a walk on the beach before dark, just the two of us.”
“Handsome!” I cough into my hand. “Amanda, you must be mistaking that ugly mug for someone else.”
Aaron scowls at me but can’t help laughing.
“Shut up! ‘ I should be in one of those fashion magazines. ’ Remember that?” He’s quoting their elderly neighbor, Ms. Sorensen.
We were sixteen, and Aaron had thought it’d be a stellar idea to home-bleach his brown hair and use self-tan lotion in the course of one day to be ready for ‘ swim season ,’ as he’d called it.
We recount the story to Amanda, talking over each other, howling with laughter.
“Are the two of you done?” Amanda taps her boot against the deck, her hands resting on her hips, but it’s clear that she’s two seconds from cracking up, too. Eventually, she can’t hold back the snort-laugh that bursts from her mouth. “Swim season, huh?”
That, apparently, is Aaron’s breaking point, because he jumps from the deck and hands me his empty bottle. His cheeks ablaze with embarrassment, he holds out his hand in front of Amanda. “C’mon, gorgeous. The beach waits for no one.”
“It kinda does, dude,” I wink.
“Shut up.” Then he pulls a giggling Amanda after him, and the backyard grows quiet. After a while, I get up too, stretching my body, which is aching from a long day of moving. Inside, I find Mom coming down the stairs from the second floor.
“Sweetie, I put the spare towels in the cabinet across from the bathroom and the extra linen in the closet in the bedroom. There are still some sheets in the washer, so don’t forget to hang them out later, but wait until the fire dies down, because otherwise they—”
“Mom, breathe,” I laugh, squeezing her shoulders once she stops in front of me. She inhales deeply a couple of times, then lets out a clipped breath as she looks up at me, a nervous smile on her face.
“I know, I know.” She shakes her head. “I just didn’t think it would be this hard.
” She sniffles. “You’re my only child, Michael.
My baby. And now you’re all grown-up with a boyfriend and a house of your own…
” Her eyes are moist, and I know this day isn’t easy on Mom.
As happy as she is for me, it’s been her and me together since I was thirteen.
I pull her against me and hug her, speaking into her hair. “I’m right here. You can come by whenever you want. And we have Friday dinners at your place.” She nods, sniffling into my T-shirt, then pulls away.
“I’m so proud of you, Michael. For living your life and building a home here with Dennis. The two of you… I don’t know, you boys just make me so happy.” She pauses, looking down at the hardwood floor beneath us. “Your dad would have been so very proud, too.”
“Thanks, Mom.” My eyes sting with emotion.
I’ve often wondered about that. If Dad would’ve accepted my being with a man, but I’ve always come to the same conclusion.
That he would’ve. Because if it weren’t for Dad, I wouldn’t be the man I am today.
He showed me what it means to be a provider, a caretaker, and someone who loves their family.
“Okay, I’ll get out of your hair now,” she sighs, looking around the hallway. “Jeez, now where’s my purse? I know I just had it. Michael, will you go check—”
“Looking for this?” Dennis jogs into the hallway from the kitchen, swinging a brown leather purse in his hand. Mom visibly relaxes, accepting it from him, pecking a quick kiss against his cheek.
“Thank you, honey. I swear I just had it. ”
“It was on top of the washing machine,” Dennis says, hugging her. Then he moves toward me, pressing a soft kiss against my lips, before wrapping his arms around my waist, leaning his head against my chest.
Mom shakes her head, laughing. “Of course it was. Thank you, Dennis.” She slings her purse over her shoulder, then places her hands on her hips and regards us. “All right, my job here is done. Willow’s food is in the pantry, and there should be enou—”
I laugh. “Mom! Jeez. Will you get out of here already? Frank’s a patient man, but still…
” I trail off. Mom is still dating Frank, who’s currently waiting in his car outside.
He helped us move in today, along with Jon, Sarah, Aaron, and Amanda.
They all stayed for the barbecue dinner Jon prepared on our grill out back.
Mom and Sarah brought enough potato salad and coleslaw to feed an entire army, and Dennis made bread over the fire pit.
Yes, I made a fire pit in our backyard, because who doesn’t love a cozy fire?
“I know, I know.” She taps her forehead. “Mom brain, right? Okay, well, I’ll see you boys on Friday, if not sooner. Bring Aaron and Amanda, too, if they’re still here.”
“We will. Thanks for all your help today, Anna.” Dennis goes to open the door for her. “I don’t know how we would’ve managed without your superior organizing skills.”
“Anytime, honey.”
We stand on the wraparound porch and wave goodbye to Mom and Frank, then head inside.
Jon and Sarah left right after dinner because they were leaving early the next morning for a long-overdue one-week vacation in Seattle.
Aaron and Amanda are house-sitting while they’re away, and Aaron’s helping me out with a few landscaping jobs that couldn’t be moved.
We find Willow crashing on the kitchen floor, snoring softly, her legs kicking, way off in dreamland, chasing the squirrel .
“Thank God for moms,” Dennis sighs, stretching his arms above his head as he takes in our sparkly clean kitchen.
His T-shirt rides up, revealing inches of tanned stomach, and as usual, need builds inside me.
I can’t wait to christen the kitchen as soon as I decide if I want to fuck my man up against the counter or bend him over the kitchen island.
What a dilemma, huh? Guess I’m just going to have to do both.
Or he can rail my ass instead. Most days, we’re still fighting over who gets to bottom.
Nothing beats having your prostate pounded.
“They’re the best,” I say, moving up behind him, wrapping my arms around his chest. He instantly leans against me, resting his head back against my chest. His eyes are closed, dark eyelashes resting against his skin, his cheeks sun-kissed.
His hair smells like smoke from the bonfire, sending me back to all the nights we’ve spent on the beach.
Not the night I rejected him. I don’t think about that anymore.
It’s in the past. No, I think about our first date and the first time we had sex, watching the stars and the sunrise, when we first confessed our love for each other.
I think about Willow chasing her ball across the sand, Dennis’ laughter rising and falling along with the crashing waves and calls from the seagulls.
So many moments and endless more to come.
“I wanna show you something,” I murmur into his hair, breathing him in.